The First Bite
by Mahawna
Summary: The moon is full. The time is right. Tonight, there will be blood, and Fenrir knows exactly who is victim will be.


It was only a matter of time. He could feel the pull of the moon deep down in his bones as the glowing orb slowly began to rise over the trees. He could hear the children nearby, his prey would not escape him tonight. A shiver passed through his body.  
It was almost time. Watching the hills, he could just make out the gentle light of yet another gloriously full moon. Pity, it only came once a month. If it were up to him, he would spend more time in this form than human. All he wanted was to give  
complete control over to the one within. The one that was beginning to fight to the surface. The one desperate for the taste of blood, the feel of bones crunching, the rush of hunting down unsuspecting prey. Yes, he was the ultimate predator.

A loud crack sounded in the clearing, as he fell to his knees. It was beginning. He reveled in the agony of it— bones breaking, shifting, re-aligning. Blood pounding in his ears, heart thumping, pounding inside his chest. Skin stretching, ripping, tearing  
apart, only to stitch itself back together again. Breath coming in shallow gasps, soon turned to panting, followed shortly by unearthly howls. Fuck, it was intoxicating.

No human could make those sounds. He didn't much enjoy being human anyway. Not when this form could create so much fear; send the strongest of men to their knees or cause the bravest among their hearts to beat erratically. He lived for that fear. Fear  
was power, and to know he could draw these reactions without fail, made him feel truly powerful. His name was spread through hushed whispers. The mere mention of it could create a pall, a suffocating atmosphere. A fear that his name alone would bring  
the devil himself down upon the speaker. He loved every second of it. He could practically taste their fear, it was nearly palatable.

Releasing one final howl, the transformation was complete. It never took him very long to reorient himself. These were the moments he lived for when he truly felt alive. The feeling of his new muscles as they began to bunch and stretch, and his tail swishing  
back and forth, snout lifted, sniffing the air. Good, the children hadn't left yet. Why would they? They thought themselves safe. None of his kind had been spotted in this particular area for some time. He made sure of that personally. He needed this  
moment, and it had finally come.

That fucker would pay tonight. He would make sure of that. He needed to be reminded of his place; that he wasn't in control., and had no true authority over them. He planned to show him just how little control he actually had. The wizard thought they  
were mindless, bloodthirsty beasts, well, he planned to show him just how mindless and bloodthirsty a beast he could be. This was a lesson he would never forget. He would spend the rest of his days hating himself, blaming himself. As well he should,  
it really was all his fault. He had had no previous plans for the man, until he went and opened his mouth. The fucker was going to get what was coming to him. His own pack lived in fear of being hunted down and murdered thanks to this man, he simply  
planned to return the favor.

Stretching his strong legs he got to his feet, turning his head in the direction of the laughter. Yes, this hunt was special and had to be perfect. As much as he wanted it, craved it, needed it, he knew he couldn't just run in there and begin the slaughter.  
No, he needed to watch, and wait for the perfect opportunity. He needed eyes on his prey. When he couldn't be saved. Nobody would get in the way of his plans tonight. Slowly he entered the tree line, following the squeals and voices. He had picked  
this area specifically because no ordinary human would be able to hear from that distance. Just another gift given to him from that fateful bite so long ago.

Following the sounds and smells, he let his mind wander. His mouth watered at the anticipation of blood. So much blood. Just because he had a special purpose here tonight, didn't mean he couldn't have a little fun as well. His errand wouldn't take very  
long anyway. A few minutes at most, so why not make this trip as enjoyable as he could? There was nobody who could possibly hope to stop him.

The prospect of so much blood rushing, bones cracking, flesh tearing apart— it sent shivers down his spine with delight. Yes, he could afford to play as well. Nobody said he couldn't mix business with pleasure, and it would only make his message that  
much stronger; send more fear to their hearts. He looked forward to the stories they would tell about him after this night— as night, he would relive as often as possible in his mind. He knew this would become a night of infamy for him. They thought  
he was the devil before, but after this, they would know it. There would be no doubt in anyone's mind after this, that he was the embodiment of evil.

He licked his lips at the thought, another shiver running through him. Many called him mad, insane, psychotic. Well, if that was true, who would want to be completely sane? Where was the fun in following the rules? Bending to the whims of a society that  
had spurned him as an outcast; made him a pariah. It was them that made him this way. They couldn't accept anyone different, so he decided to give them a reason to fear him. He had no control over what had happened to him, it wasn't his fault. Because  
of his actions tonight, he finally found that control. He was in charge, they would see. They were nothing more than sheep waiting to be slaughtered at his earliest convenience.

Stalking quietly through the trees, he approached on padded feet, but stopped short of entering the fields beyond the trees. There were more people present than he expected. Perfect. That would mean a higher body count by the end of the night. You only  
really needed one or two people left alive to spread the tales and ignite the fear.

He crouched down, watching. He needed to be absolutely sure of his target before making his move. This whole night would have far less of an impact if he didn't at the very least get his jaws around the one he came here for. Once again, he was grateful  
for the heightened senses provided by his gift. Otherwise, he never would have been able to pick out any distinguishing features of anyone from this distance. He needed to make sure everything would be perfect. He needed that smug bastard to  
see exactly what was about to happen. Recognize that all of this was on him; that he was the one who created the mess this night was about to become. All he needed to do was wait.

He was only able to pick up one of the scents he needed before people started to head home. Damn it. Well, it would be easy enough to break into their homes afterward. Depending on how distraught the wizard was afterward would determine how quickly he  
could send for help or sound any kind of alarm. Oh well, they had all been just the cherry on top anyway. The rest of these sheep weren't particularly important for tonight. He could still get his point across without the rest of them.

Soon the only two he could see left were a small boy playing in the field with sandy blond hair, and a woman sitting on the back porch steps of one of the nearest house. The boy couldn't be more than four years old. If he didn't need to make the wizard  
suffer so much, he would probably have just taken the brat right there. But that would leave questions unanswered, and they would come looking for him. He knew if he was successful tonight, the wizard's pride wouldn't allow him to share this development  
with anyone unless absolutely necessary. Where was that fucker anyway? Who leaves their cubs out to play with just a muggle to watch? Even if it was the boy's mother? He really had no clue what danger he put his family in by pointing fingers. Oh,  
the arrogance. Nobody was untouchable, and apparently, he needed to be taught that lesson. He just needed to wait a little longer for him to come outside. He needed to witness what came next. The muggle woman wouldn't know to recognize him, making  
this all seem random. He needed to understand this wasn't random. He needed to know who it was that had come here in the night and ripped away his happy little family. He was prepared to wait all night if he had to.

The small boy had been making his way slowly through the fields, farther and farther from the house. There really couldn't have been a better set up. The cub was closer to the woods than he was to the house now. There would be no way for his parents to  
reach him in time to stop what he planned to do. Finally, finally, the wizard came out of the house. He waited for him to come out just a little farther, to make sure he wasn't going to head right back inside. He needed to watch this. Watch what he  
had done to his family. Watch what happened when you thought yourself better than others. They would rise up against you, and bring you down with them. He would make the wizard understand hell.

Rising only enough so that he could work his legs underneath him, he slowly began to move forward. With the moon shining so brightly, quick movement would be easy to spot. He couldn't alert the cub to his presence too soon. No, he needed to be up close.  
He wanted that first scream of perfect, innocent terror to ring in his ears. This cub would not escape tonight unscathed.

Placing one giant paw in front of the other, he continued his slow path towards the unsuspecting cub. His eyes flickered back to the porch of the house every few seconds to double check that both the man and the Muggle woman were still there. Maybe the  
muggle would become terrified, not understanding what would happen to her son, and leave. Another stab to the heart. He hoped that would be the case. He would squeeze every drop of satisfaction he could out of this. Every bit of pain and despair he  
caused would only add to the euphoria of tonight. He was going to be able to live off the high of tonight for days, regardless of the ache deep in his bones once he returned to his human form.

He could hear the wizard and the muggle talking softly, sitting close together, turning to watch their cub once and awhile. The cub smelt of sunshine, and books. He tilted his head. It was rather an odd combination. From what he had witnessed of the cub  
tonight and what he could discern from his scent, he really was a bright, exceptional child, it was almost a pity to do this to him. Almost. Not enough to stop him from continuing forward.

He stopped several feet short of the cub, hunching back down, needing the perfect moment. He knew he wouldn't have to wait long, and the wizard did not disappoint. The cub had his back to him, but no matter. His scream of surprise would be that much more  
delightful.

There it was. The moment the wizard looked back up, scanning the field to watch his cub playing, believing they were all perfectly safe. As soon as he saw his head start to turn he made his move. Watch what you have brought down on your family, you fucker.

He got to his feet and leaped forward, jaws open, ready to clamp down. His aim was true; he rarely missed. Snapping his teeth together with a sickening, glorious squelch, he could feel his fangs scraping against the small bones in the cub's shoulder.  
The sound sent a shudder through his body— few sounds could compare to teeth scraping against bone.

The scream that came next could most definitely compare, though. It was a scream of unadulterated pain and fear. He lived to hear these sounds. It made him feel even more powerful. He was the cause of that sound. He locked his jaw firmly in place as the  
cub continued to scream and thrash around, desperately trying to escape. But there was no escape to be had— not unless he allowed it.

It would be all too easy to just snap the cub's neck and feast. It had been far too long since he had enjoyed one so young. But no, that would not do. He needed this particular cub alive. It was the cub living after tonight that would prolong his idiot  
father's suffering. The cub may even come seek him out in the years to come. Wouldn't that just be the final nail in the wizard's coffin? If his only son came searching for the monster that created him, for comfort. Wanting something better than what  
his father could or would ever give him. The idea certainly had merit, but that would mean the cub would need to come of his own free will. A small sacrifice for long term gain. He could wait.

Biting down— squeezing with a little bit more pressure— he gave the cub a good shake. The blood had started flowing from the puncture wounds, the sharp, iron tang of it seeping into his mouth. His eyes rolled back slightly in his head and he was barely  
holding on to his control, desperately wanting to feast on the cub; the taste of him was perfection. He allowed the blood to flow down his throat. It flowed out, over his lips, staining his muzzle, dripping into the grassy field below, soaking into  
the parched earth. It would never cease to amaze him, how much blood a body so small could carry.

The cub continued to struggle and cry out for his parents. They had heard his screams and were standing to see what was happening. He could see the moment everything clicked into place for the wizard. Drawing his wand, he leaped off the porch and headed  
straight for them. You would think someone who spoke so adamantly against his kind would know there were very few spells that would have a strong enough impact to force him to let go.

The cub wasn't struggling as hard anymore— his screams had died down to whimpers. Well, that just wouldn't do at all, now would it? This night needed to stand out in the wizard's mind forever. He gave another good shake, causing the cub to cry out again  
as his teeth ripped more of the skin on his shoulder, before loosening his hold, and unceremoniously dropping him to the ground. The cub didn't make any move to get away— the venom must already be spreading through his veins. He would be in too much  
pain to form coherent thoughts any longer. He probably wasn't even fully aware he had been released.

As he looked up he saw the wizard approaching them slowly, apprehensively. Now that he'd let go, he knew the wizard wouldn't risk him latching back on, but it was also clear that he didn't want to misfire and accidentally hit the small boy lying on the  
ground Growling low in his throat, he felt his hackles rise in warning.

The wizard stopped when he heard the growl— the warning. Good, he at least understood the danger he was currently in; how precarious this was, and how truly horrible this situation could end. Before the wizard could do anything to stop him, he slashed  
his claws down the cubs back, causing him to start screaming again, proving to his father he was at least still alive— for now anyway. He took a step back so he could better see his handy work. Three long gashes down the cubs back, glistening brightly  
as the red life-blood flowed, pooling beneath him. Such a waste. He had to keep reminding himself of the long term gain here. Watching the blood leave his small body, creating a darkening, beautiful pool was mesmerizing. Focus. The job is only half  
done. He still needed to get out of there. Not that he really thought the wizard had the skill to stop him, especially with how distraught he must surely be at this fantastic turn of events.

He looked back up into the wizard's face. He was paler than what he would have naturally appeared to be in the fullness of the moonlight. The pain and fear visible, but also, the disgust. After all of this, he still hadn't learned his lesson apparently.  
Well, he would learn it in the coming years, or his son would learn to resent his own father. Either way, he won in the end.

A stinging hex came hurdling towards him, sailing over his shoulder, just missing him. Look, like the wizard finally found some balls. Backing away from the whimpering cub, he slowly made his retreat, not breaking eye contact with the wizard who made  
no move to come any closer. Probably afraid of what else would happen to his precious cub if he did. He could see the tears running down the wizard's face, the obvious outward sign of pain making this victory all the sweeter.

He soon found himself back amongst the trees. As he disappeared into the shadows, he watched as the wizard finally move forward, falling to his knees, cradling the small body in his arms. He could hear the anguished cries singing through the warm night  
air. Perfection. Only then did he turn his back on the mayhem he had left behind. He looked forward to the day his revenge would be complete; the day the cub came looking for him. When this cub came to join his pack would be the day he had finally  
completely crushed the soul of Lyall Lupin. The day Remus Lupin accepted what he now was: a werewolf. 


End file.
